Albus Fever
by gahhMinerva
Summary: It's Valentine's Day, and Minerva's got a fever for Albus! I know it's out of season, and the summary is terrible. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own things from Harry Potter. I only borrow them. Thanks, J.K. Rowling, really.

A/N: This isn't the most creative plot, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Happy early Valentine's Day!

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**Albus Fever**

When Professor Minerva McGonagall awoke on the morning of February 14, sunlight was pouring into her bedroom in Hogwarts. The professor, however, was not feeling so sunny. She rolled over in bed and groaned.

An epidemic of a flu-like disease swept through Hogwarts over the past week, much like Sybill Trelawney, the Divination teacher, predicted a month earlier. Although Professor McGonagall had little tolerance for the practice of Divination, she was finding it hard not to believe the prediction. Many students had succumbed to the rapidly spreading illness, and it seemed Minerva was its next victim.

Glancing at the clock, Minerva saw that it was 7:52 A.M. Breakfast would be starting in a mere eight minutes! When this information registered into the professor's brain, she hastily tried to get out of bed.

"Merlin, I've overslept!" she muttered hoarsely and immediately fell into a coughing fit. She broke free from the tangled web of bed sheets and scurried to the bathroom for a rushed shower.

_This is just great_, Professor McGonagall thought. _The year I finally get up the nerve to confess my love to Albus, I get sick!_ And _I'm late. What a way to start my Valentine's Day!_

As she exited the bathroom, she magically dried her hair. It was 8:03, so she was already late, which frustrated her greatly. She was _never_ late for anything.

Professor McGonagall threw on her clothes and robes, and then she stuffed her wand and a tartan handkerchief into the pockets. She haphazardly pulled her hair into a bun as she stepped into her shoes. Just as she was about to walk out the door, Minerva realized that she forgot her hat. Feeling too weak to search for it, and not having any more time, she pulled out her wand.

"Accio hat!" she croaked. The pointed witch's hat soared across the room and into her hand. She placed it on her head as she hurried out the door.

Professor McGonagall was nearly running down the hall, all while practically coughing up a lung. She knew she was sick, but missing work was not an option to her. She figured at this pace, she could make it to breakfast by 8:30 which was, although very late, only half an hour past the start of the meal.

However, the floor suddenly became very slick, and Minerva slipped and fell, hitting the floor with a _thud!_ Peeves zoomed out from behind a suit of armor, cackling.

"Peeves!" she yelled with her lack of a voice. She straightened her glasses and shot a furious glare at the poltergeist as she got to her feet.

"Mwehehehehe!" Peeves guffawed gleefully. "Just thought the corridor could use a fresh coat of wax, Your Deputyness. Do you like it?"

"I don't have time for this, Peeves!" Minerva said through gritted teeth. _Of anyone I could've run into, it's Peeves!_ she thought, frustrated at her terrible luck.

"What was that? Could you be a bit louder?" Peeves snickered and showered her with candy hearts.

Professor McGonagall brushed the hearts with various love messages off her robes and said, "I shall tell the headmaster, Peeves!"

"Ahh, but he won't be able to HEAR YOU!" Peeves laughed and zipped out of sight.

Shaking with anger, Minerva continued toward the Great Hall. When she got nearer, she could hear the students' voices and smell the scent of food at the Valentine's Day breakfast. As she bounded down the marble staircase, a wave of dizziness swept over her. Minerva took a moment to regain her balance, but as she proceeded toward the Great Hall again, she became very lightheaded, and her senses began to fail.

"Minerva?" a male voice called. She could barely hear his footsteps as he rushed over to her, and then she felt herself begin to collapse. Fortunately, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her and brought her close.

"Minerva?" the voice said again. All Professor McGonagall could do was lean against his body for support.

"Minerva!" the man said, urgently this time. Professor McGonagall's eyes fluttered open.

"Albus!" she gasped, recognizing it was the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, who caught her as she fell.

"My dear, are you all right?" Dumbledore asked, pulling back a little and gazing intently into her brilliant green eyes. Worry was etched into his face.

"I- I think so," Minerva whispered, taking a few deep breaths. Her sight and hearing seemed to be restored to normal after her near-faint. "Y-yes, I'm fine now, Albus," she said, a little more confidently this time.

"Are you sure, Minerva?" Albus asked, bringing a hand to her forehead. "My dear, you're burning with fever! Perhaps I should escort you to Madam Pomfrey?"

"No!" Professor McGonagall cried out. She absolutely _didn't_ want to spend a day in the hospital wing with Poppy fussing over her. "Let's just have breakfast, Albus. I'm _fine_."

"You and I both know that you're certainly not fine, and that you should be in bed," Professor Dumbledore chided her gently. "I suppose you wouldn't want to spend your Valentine's Day in the hospital wing, though."

"Exactly," Minerva said, relieved that she wasn't being forced to see Poppy.

"All right. You should get something to eat anyway, Minerva," Albus said, squeezing her hand. She squeezed his in return, and they walked up to the staff table hand in hand.

Many of the students casted them curious stares, but not because they were holding hands. It was a usual occurrence for Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore to walk together, so they didn't even notice that. They did find it odd, however, that Professor McGonagall had arrived over half an hour late, and she was looking rather pale. Most of the students, though, were too busy exchanging valentines with each other to even pay attention to anything else.

_I should be doing that with Albus_, Minerva thought, annoyed at her immune system for failing her. She originally planned to get up early, send him a valentine before breakfast, and, later that day, go up to his office and kiss him senseless, no matter how he reacted to the valentine. New circumstances prevented her from doing that.

Finally they reached the staff table. Most of the other faculty members gave Professor McGonagall concerned glances. Fortunately Poppy Pomfrey was stuck in the hospital wing, much to Minerva's relief. The only person to say anything was Severus Snape, the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin.

"Decided to join us, eh, Minerva?" Snape drawled. He was smirking triumphantly, as if he were positively delighted to see Professor McGonagall late for once.

Minerva ignored him and sat down next to Dumbledore. Snape was very surprised that she didn't give him a snappy comeback. He shrugged and resumed eating his breakfast.

Most of the teachers and students left, having already consumed their morning meal. Only the Heads of House and Professor Dumbledore remained. Professors Sprout and Flitwick were chatting with each other, and Snape was taking a swig of pumpkin juice. Minerva quit staring at them, and her eyes turned to the many stacks of heart-shaped pancakes on plates across the table, as well as the several smaller plates, that only had some crumbs remaining.

_Isn't there any more toast?_ she thought unhappily. She wasn't feeling quite up to eating pancakes. All she really felt like eating, she realized, was toast, but there didn't seem to be any left.

"Albus," Professor McGonagall said, but he didn't seem to hear her. "Albus," she tried again after clearing her throat.

"What is it, Minerva?" he said, turning to face her. His eyes noticed her empty plate. "I thought you said you wanted breakfast, my dear, and you haven't got anything on your plate!"

"I know," Minerva whispered. "All I really feel like eating is toast, and the only thing here is Valentine's Day pancakes."

"Hmm. There was plenty earlier. Would you like me to fetch you some from the kitchens, dear?" Albus offered.

"That's okay," Professor McGonagall said. "You don't have to."

"All right, Minerva," he said, turning to his plate. "You can have mine." He picked up his own piece of toast and gave it to her. "You do need to eat something, after all, my dear."

"Thank you, Albus." She smiled.

"You're very welcome, Minerva dear," he said. "Would you like me to walk you back to your rooms after breakfast?"

Professor McGonagall swallowed a bit of toast.

"What do you mean, Albus? I've got a class at 9:15."

"Surely you don't believe you're still teaching today, Minerva!" Professor Dumbledore said incredulously.

"Of course I do!" she said a bit too loudly, straining her voice, and she fell into another coughing fit. When she could speak again, she insisted, "I'm fine, Albus, really."

"You are not, Minerva. You almost passed out in the corridors," he pointed out.

"That was nothing!"

"You can hardly speak, Minerva. You are obviously in no condition to teach."

"But-"

"You need rest, my dear. I will not permit you to teach today," Dumbledore said in a final sort of way.

Professor McGonagall sighed heavily. She rarely ever missed work.

"Okay, you win, Albus."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I'm sure the other teachers will be willing to help cover your classes." He turned toward Professors Flitwick and Sprout, who were still talking to each other. "Filius, Pomona," he said for their attention. They both looked up automatically.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore?" Filius Flitwick asked.

"Would you mind covering the Transfiguration class that takes place during your free period? I'm afraid Minerva is not well today," Dumbledore said. Everyone's gaze turned toward Professor McGonagall. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, feeling awkward. She hated having to have someone cover her class.

"Certainly, Headmaster," Professor Flitwick answered. Professor Sprout nodded in agreement.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Filius, could you please inform the other teachers?"

"Right away!" Professor Flitwick squeaked and hopped off his chair. He swiftly left the Great Hall. Then Professor Sprout rose.

"I'd better head up to the classroom, then," Professor Sprout said. "Get well, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you," Minerva called hoarsely. She offered a weak smile before she began to cough. Professor Sprout left, and the Great Hall was now empty except for Albus and Minerva. By the time Minerva finished her single slice of toast, the bell for morning classes had already rung, and the halls were free of students.

"Shall I help you to your rooms, dear?" Albus said, standing.

"If you wouldn't mind," Professor McGonagall replied.

"Not at all." He extended his hand, and Minerva grasped it graciously. He helped her stand up. "Are you all right?"

Professor McGonagall nodded, but she clutched onto his arm for support. Dumbledore noticed this and wrapped his arm firmly around her shoulders. They walked slowly out of the Great Hall. After they climbed up the marble staircase, Minerva leaned even more heavily upon Albus. She had become sheet white again and was shivering feverishly.

"Albus..." she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Minerva?" he asked worriedly. He steered her into a vacant classroom and sat her down.

"I- I feel faint again, Albus," Minerva whispered.

"I should take you to Poppy," he said with a sense of urgency in his voice, but Minerva shook her head.

"Please don't, Albus," she pleaded. Professor Dumbledore sat down next to her and patted her knee.

"You really don't want me to take you to the Hospital Wing?" he asked her.

"Please... I'd rather be in my rooms," she told him.

"If that's what you'd like, Minerva," he said and stood up. Professor McGonagall carefully got to her feet and allowed Albus to hold her again. She still felt a bit shaky, but Albus made sure she was okay. When they approached the slippery portion of the corridor, Professor McGonagall warned Albus that it was extremely slick. He conjured a rug and it unrolled itself onto the floor. They crept carefully across it and finally made it to the corridor where Minerva's rooms were located. Dumbledore spoke the password and let Minerva into her rooms first. Albus closed the door and joined Professor McGonagall on a small red and gold sofa.

"Thank you, Albus," Professor McGonagall said. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

"Oh, you know you're welcome, my dear," he replied. Minerva smiled. She inched closer to Albus and dared to rest her head on his shoulder again. He took off her hat and placed it on the coffee table. He embraced her with one arm and, with the other, summoned a tartan blanket from across the room. He draped it over Minerva's curled-up body.

"Mmh, thank you, dear," she said, snuggling even closer. "This is just what I wanted."

Albus put on a playful smile. "Is it? I thought you wanted to work today," he teased.

"Not anymore," Minerva answered.

"What do you want to do today, then?" he asked, stroking her dark hair.

"This," she said, but her response was muffled because her face was buried in Dumbledore's crimson robes.

"What?"

She turned her head so that he could hear her clearly.

"This. Have you by my side all day," she said honestly.

"Hmm. Seems my day is suddenly free of other plans," Albus replied.

"I'm glad."

"Me too."

It was only a few minutes before Minerva fell asleep next to Albus. He took off her square glasses and placed them on the table. Then Albus kissed her lightly on the forehead and murmured, "Sleep well, my love." Moments later he drifted to sleep, too.

TBC...

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A/N: Okay, there's supposed to be another chapter to this. I hope you like it so far! 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Harry Potter things aren't mine. They are J.K. Rowling's.

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Professor Dumbledore awoke about two hours later. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles, since they became rather crooked during his nap. He noticed that Professor McGonagall was still peacefully asleep, curled up very close to Albus. Her face displayed a tranquil smile, and she seemed very much at ease. He didn't want to wake her, so, using his free hand, he reached over to the coffee table and picked up the latest issue of _Transfiguration Weekly_. He read through it while waiting patiently for Minerva to wake up.

About half an hour later, Dumbledore felt the woman beside him stir. He closed the magazine and replaced it on the coffee table. Then he turned to see if Minerva had awakened. Minerva's stunning green eyes were shining up at him, and she was still smiling. Albus ran a hand through her silky black hair, which had come out of its tight bun, and said, "Hello again, my dear sleepyhead. How was your nap?"

"Restful," she answered groggily, sitting up. Her eyes turned from Albus and squinted, scanning the table for her glasses. Dumbledore reached over to the table and picked up the square spectacles.

"Looking for these?" he asked, handing them to her.

"Thank you, Albus," Minerva replied, placing them over her dazzling eyes. At this moment, she began to cough forcefully. In between coughs, she requested weakly, "Can you get me that bag of cough drops over there?" She pointed to a bureau against the opposite wall but noticed that the package was not there. She frowned, but then she realized that Albus had already summoned them. Once her coughing fit ended, Minerva smiled graciously and thanked him again. She popped a drop into her mouth and shoved the bag into her robes' pocket. Sucking on the cough drop, she snuggled back into Albus's beard. Albus embraced her gently in response.

"Still tired, my dear?" he asked, running his fingers through her ebony hair once more.

Minerva nodded into his beard and lifted her face out of his long white beard. She looked into his sparkling blue eyes and murmured, "A little." She rested her head on Dumbledore's shoulder and asked, "What time is it?"

Dumbledore checked his watch and answered, "Almost noon. Are you hungry?"

After a moment of thought, Minerva said, "Just a bit." She yawned and then continued, "Are we going to the Great Hall, Albus?"

"Do you feel well enough to head back down?" Albus asked with a hint of concern in his eyes. Professor McGonagall sniffed and shook her head. Dumbledore pulled the tartan blanket back over his Deputy's body and said, "I'll call a house-elf for you, then."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose with her tartan handkerchief and then said, "Thank you."

"You're always welcome, Minerva," he told her. "Would you like to eat now?"

Minerva nodded in response. "Soup," she murmured. "Could you ask for soup, Albus?" She looked up at him with weary eyes.

Dumbledore smiled faintly and replied, "Of course." He stroked her hair again when she drew even closer to him. He could feel her shivering feverishly against his body, and, for the second time that day, Albus felt Professor McGonagall's forehead. She was still running a fever. Albus lightly kissed her temple and embraced her for a moment before whispering, "Come, let's get you some soup." He caught Minerva smile sheepishly and turn pink while he slowly pulled away. Then he called a house-elf.

"Noel has arrived, Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall!" Noel the house-elf said when he arrived. "What is Headmaster Dumbledore needing from Noel?"

"Could you please bring some soup and whatever is on the today's menu for lunch? Professor McGonagall and I will be having lunch in her rooms today," Dumbledore said.

"Noel will get right on it, Headmaster!" the elf exclaimed. Dumbledore smiled and thanked him.

Right after Noel disappeared, Professor McGonagall asked, "You're not going down to the Great Hall for lunch, Albus?"

"Did you think I was going to leave you, dear? Of course I planned to stay with you for lunch," Albus said. "You don't mind, do you, Minerva?"

"Not at all! I just didn't know you were staying," said Minerva. "It's very thoughtful of you."

"I'm glad you think so," Albus said, just as Noel reappeared. Making space on the coffee table, he said, "Thank you, Noel."

"You are welcome, Headmaster!" Noel said, placing the tray of food on the table. He bowed, and _popped_ away. Once he was gone, both Minerva and Albus eyed the tray of food on the table. There was a steaming pot of chicken noodle soup and a plate of sandwiches. There was also a small container filled with lemon drops, which the elves must have gotten especially for Dumbledore, who had a sweet tooth.

Professor McGonagall sat up straight, and Professor Dumbledore leaned over toward the coffee table to ladle some soup into a bowl for Minerva. He carefully turned toward Minerva with the bowl of soup and dipped a spoon into the bowl. He brought the spoon back out of the bowl, now filled with heart-shaped noodles, a small piece of chicken, and broth, he brought it to Minerva's lips.

"Albus, you don't have to spoon-feed me. I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself," said Minerva.

"I know that," Dumbledore replied. "I just want to."

Minerva looked slightly amused and obediently sipped the soup off the spoon.

"It's really quite hot," Minerva said, grimacing slightly. Albus drew the spoon away and blew gently on it to cool it off.

"How is it now?" he asked, after feeding Minerva another sip of soup.

"Much better," she said, flashing another pleasant smile. Albus grinned in return.

Minerva didn't usually like having somebody else take care of her; she was a strong, capable woman. However, she was strangely enjoying this treatment from Albus, who also seemed to happy to be with her. A small smile formed out of her lips as Albus continued to feed her. Realizing how hungry she actually was, Minerva (or Albus, rather) quickly emptied the bowl. Dumbledore refilled the bowl and resumed feeding Minerva, who was eating rather ravenously.

"I'm glad you're enjoying the soup, dear," Albus said, as he gave her yet another spoonful of chicken noodle soup. When this bowl was almost empty, Minerva asked, "Aren't you going to eat, Albus?"

"As soon as you're finished, I will," Albus assured her.

"It's all right. I'm not hungry anymore. So eat," Professor McGonagall said firmly. "You deserve to have your lunch, too."

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked.

"_Yes_, Albus," Minerva said. "I'll just relax a bit while you eat."

"All right, if you say so," Albus said, "but do not hesitate to ask me for anything, okay?"

"I won't," Minerva said. "Now _eat_. I know you're hungry."

Albus smiled. He _was_ quite hungry, and, although he made no obvious or subtle sign of it, Minerva knew. He picked up a plate and a sandwich and began to eat. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall leaned a piece of parchment against a thick book and scrawled swiftly across it. There was a small stack of parchment on the floor beside the sofa and an inkwell on the coffee table. Albus polished off one sandwich and turned to her. With a mixed expression of feigned-anger and humor on his face, he swallowed his last bit of sandwich. He shook his head out of mild amusement.

"Minerva, what are you doing?" he asked, fully knowing _exactly_ what she was doing. If he hadn't known the Transfiguration teacher so well, he would have been surprised by her actions.

"Grading sixth-year homework," she answered. She glanced up at him when she said this but didn't stop marking up the parchment.

"I thought we agreed you would _relax_," Albus said, pretending to be disappointed in her. He actually admired her hard-working nature, her motivation to get work done no matter what. He should have known that if she couldn't teach that day, she would accomplish _something_ relating to her job.

Professor McGonagall paused. "I am," she said, but she realized that grading papers what not Albus's idea of relaxation. Dumbledore gave her a look that meant "You-know-what-I-meant-when-I-said-'relax.'" She sighed before continuing, "Albus, I am simply grading papers, not battling a horde of trolls. I wouldn't classify this as 'overexertion.'"

"I wouldn't call it 'relaxation,' either, my dear," Dumbledore countered with twinkling eyes.

Professor McGonagall sighed again. She wasn't really in the mood for arguing, but she also wanted to get some work done. She looked at him pleadingly.

"Can't you just let me do this?"

"I know how important your work is to you, but right now your first priority should be your _health_," said Dumbledore sternly.

"Albus, I'm going to be so behind on my work tomorrow if I don't do this," Minerva said.

Dumbledore thought for a moment. "Allow me to propose an idea," he began. "Since you are ill, and I know you're tired, you will take a nap. During this time, I will do your grading."

Professor McGonagall considered the plan. "It's tempting, Albus, but I _rarely_ sleep during the day. Two naps in one day would be unheard of!" she told him. "May I simply lie down, and perhaps chat with you while you do my work?"

"Do you promise not to get some other work to do while I'm not looking?" Albus questioned, knowing that she definitely could find some other work.

"I promise," the Transfiguration teacher said.

"Then it's a deal?"

"It's a deal."

Minerva handed Albus the stack of parchment, her inkwell, and quill. He brought them over to the desk against the side wall and set them down. Minerva adjusted herself into a lying-down position and tried to get comfortable. Albus walked over to her and conjured a couple soft pillows and placed them behind her head. Minerva smiled and murmured some thanks as she pulled the tartan blanket over herself.

"Rest, my darling Minerva," Albus said, planting a kiss on her forehead, before strolling over to the desk to work.

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TBC...

A/N: This is longer than I originally anticipated. I hope you enjoying it, though! **- Erin**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter things, characters, etc. aren't mine. They belong to J.K. Rowling, who is a complete genius for thinking up all of them.

A/N: This is chapter 3 of "Albus Fever." Sorry for taking a little longer than I anticipated to get this up; writer's block and homework were obstacles for me. Well, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

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"It was very thoughtful of you to do this for me, Albus," Minerva murmured as she curled up on the scarlet sofa in her sitting room.

Professor Minerva McGonagall had agreed to rest for a while if Albus Dumbledore would complete her grading. It would seem an unfair deal -- Professor McGonagall did nothing while Professor Dumbledore did all the work! That was not the case, however. Minerva, who was too ill to teach her classes, wanted to get her work done, while Albus, who was concerned about Minerva's health, refused to permit her to unnecessarily spend her energy. Thus, he came up with this idea.

"I'm glad you think so," Albus replied, "because earlier you seemed rather adamant that you work. It's nothing really, though; I'm sure you would do the same for me."

"You're right, of course. I would do exactly the same for you. Well, almost -- I wouldn't be doing grades. I'd be organizing your mail, feeding Fawkes, shooing away Fudge --"

"I'd be especially grateful for that," Albus interrupted, and Minerva laughed, much to his delight. He absolutely loved to hear Minerva laugh; it was so rare an occasion. However, Minerva's laugh quickly transformed into a coughing fit, which disappointed Albus.

Once the coughing stopped, Albus asked, "Can I get you anything to remedy that cough, dear? A potion, perhaps?"

"It's not that bad," Minerva lied, suppressing another fit. She failed miserably at that, though, and coughed even more harshly this time. When she could speak, she managed to croak, "Really, it's not." Truthfully, Minerva just didn't want Albus to leave to get the potion.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything, Minerva?" he persisted.

She nodded and said softly, "I'm sure."

"All right," Albus said and continued marking the papers.

Several minutes passed in silence. Minerva's spent those quiet moments with her thoughts centered around Albus. This certainly wasn't how she expected to spend her Valentine's Day, but it was going quite well nonetheless. Albus volunteered to stay with her, and he didn't seem to want to leave any time soon. Of course she didn't want him to go. She was enjoying his company and all he was doing for her. It was all very kind of him.

Minerva also noticed Dumbledore's extra usage of affectionate names for her. It was not uncommon for him to call her "dear" or "darling," but he seemed to be saying it much more often today. Perhaps it was simply because she was sick, and he was being especially caring for that reason. Albus had also gently kissed her twice that day. She mused over the exact cause of his actions. Was it simply the spirit of Valentine's Day? Did he feel for her something more than friendship? Minerva didn't know. She hoped for the latter, though, because she wanted so much more than friendship with Albus.

She loved Albus. She truly felt she loved Albus Dumbledore. Minerva wondered if he could tell. She _did_ let slip more affection than she intended. Her behavior seemed to give away her feelings. How many times did she cuddle up to Albus? How many times did she snuggle into his beard?

_Probably more times than necessary,_ thought Minerva, _or even appropriate!_ She hoped she wasn't being _too_ obvious.

At the same time, Dumbledore pondered over similar topics. He took note of her suddenly calling him "darling." Was it the fever talking?

_She could just be delirious,_ Albus thought, although he hoped she was consciously saying these things. Minerva was making him feel exceptionally good today, more so than any other time before. Then he wondered if he had gone too far with the small kisses. She made no protests to it. It was in Minerva's natural personality not to show much emotion, though.

_She smiled the first time,_ Albus continued in his mind. He was generally an optimistic man, and he decided that Minerva had yet to refuse his company, so maybe she was as happy around him as he was around her.

"How goes the grading?" Minerva asked into the silence, snapping Albus from his reveries.

"I only have three left unmarked," Dumbledore answered. "I hope I've done a good enough job. It's been a little while since I've last done grading." He circled a large letter E at the top of the page and placed it in the graded pile.

"I'm sure your excellent teaching skills are still intact," said Minerva.

"You flatter me," Albus said. He smiled and resumed doing Minerva's work. Minerva always had faith in him, and that made him happy. He was glad that Minerva trusted him enough to let him do her grading, a task about which she was extremely meticulous.

"I've finished!" Dumbledore announced a few minutes later, straightening the stack of parchment and setting it on a corner of the desk. He turned in the straight-backed chair to catch Minerva's response.

"Thank you, Albus," she said, flashing a grateful grin.

"Is there anything else that needs to be done?"

Minerva shook her head and said, "Don't worry about it, Albus. I can do it later."

"I hope by 'later,' you mean when you are well again," Dumbledore said, peering at her over his half-moon spectacles.

"Well, considering you're not going to let me out of your sight until then, yes," Minerva replied, and Albus laughed.

"How right you are, my dear," he said, still chuckling. After catching his breath, he got up from the chair and strolled to Minerva's side. He knelt down to be at eye-level with her and asked, "Since you intend to do your own work later, what can I get for you right now?"

Minerva shook her head again.

"You've done so much for me all day, Albus, and it's scarcely past two o' clock. Sit down; I think you ought to relax, too," she said. She slid over to make space for companion. Albus complied and sat down beside her. She smiled and added, "You know you didn't have to do any of this for me."

"Yes, I do know that," Albus said, "but I wanted to. I care about you, Minerva. Surely you know that."

_And surely I wish I could tell you just how much I care,_ he thought disappointedly.

Minerva nodded and said, "I know. I care about you, too, Albus." She looked away in an attempt to hide the sadness in her eyes.

_I care about you more than you know, Albus. If only I could tell you._

"What would you like to do now?" Dumbledore asked after they had not spoken for a few long minutes.

Minerva pondered this for a moment and shrugged.

"I don't know," she said softly. "What would you suggest?"

"Chess, perhaps," he said, thinking Minerva would like a bit of friendly competition. Then he caught a glimpse of her hair, which, by now, had fallen completely out of its usual severe-looking bun. He found it quite lovely and thought aloud, "Or I could sit here and compliment you on your beautiful hair..." He felt the urge to run his long, slender fingers through her flowing black hair once more.

Minerva, who was slightly taken aback, asked, "What?" She wondered if she heard correctly.

Albus, realizing that he'd just let loose a bit of his thoughts, answered quickly, "We could play chess."

"No, the last part, Albus... You said something about my hair."

She wasn't exactly searching for praise, but she did enjoy hearing Albus say nice things about her.

Dumbledore turned pink and said quietly, "Er - I said that your hair is beautiful." He avoided eye contact, mentally scolding himself for the slip-up, although he was very much relieved he hadn't revealed more of his private thoughts.

Now, however, was Minerva's turn to blush.

"Oh! Um... thank you," she murmured awkwardly. She felt her cheeks burn and wondered just how red she was turning. Finally, after regaining her calm, she said, "I- I'll get the chess board."

"Right," Albus said as she rose and disappeared into her bedroom.

_You've got to be more careful, Albus!_ he told himself once Minerva had left the room. _Minerva is your friend, your best friend, and you don't want to damage that by letting slip your undying love for her. Merlin knows what sort of reaction that would bring..._

Meanwhile, Minerva was pacing in front of her bedroom mirror, where she could see the blotches of color still on her cheeks. The chess board was certainly not in her bedroom, as she knew, but she needed a moment to think. Knowing she couldn't take very long, considering the board was in a rather conspicuous location in her sitting room, she quickly tried to recap what had happened and figure out what it all meant.

_All those endearing names, the gentle kisses, the rather random compliment about my hair... perhaps Albus does care more than I think he does. Or not. I'm too hopeful, much too hopeful. It's probably just because I'm sick. I've got to stay reasonable._

Minerva pulled herself together and returned to her sitting room empty-handed. She opened her mouth and was about to speak when she saw that Albus was standing waiting for her, grinning toothily, with the chess board in his hands.

"I found it, Minerva," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "It was on the coffee table. I remembered moving it when Noel brought lunch." He replaced it on the table and beckoned for Minerva to take a seat on her sofa, while he went to pull the desk chair to the other side of the table. "You don't mind being the black pieces, do you?"

Minerva questioned how he recovered so quickly from his blushing while answering somewhat distractedly, "Of- of course not." Dumbledore placed the chair across from Minerva and sat down, still smiling.

"Ready?" he asked, and Minerva nodded. Because he was playing the white pieces, he was the first to direct the piece of his choice. After getting further and further into the game, they each spent more time planning and deciding their moves. During Minerva's turn, she caught Albus gazing intently at her. She blinked and looked away from the board and up at him.

"Why are you staring at me so, Albus?" she asked. His face held a dreamy expression, and she wondered what he was thinking.

"I was just-- " he stopped abruptly, catching his tongue before he said more. "Sorry. Am I distracting you?"

"Just a little bit," she said, observing him skeptically. He was rather fidgety, which was odd for him. Usually Dumbledore was calm and composed. Minerva wanted to know what was the matter with him, but she decided to leave the question for later, if he continued to act strangely. She gave him one last curious glance before returning to the game.

However, all concentration was lost. Minerva was continuously musing over Dumbledore's actions and words, hoping they meant what she so very much desired, all while her mind told her she was being overly optimistic and mistaking his friendship for love. Albus was constantly stealing glances at Minerva, in an attempt to satisfy his eyes and avoid any awkward questions from her. He carelessly moved his king into a bad position, but both players failed to notice what he did. In fact, both were randomly moving their pieces (Albus making increasingly worse moves), until one of Professor McGonagall's black pieces shouted, "Move me there! His king will be trapped; _it will be checkmate!_"

Minerva blinked rapidly and snapped back into reality. Promptly, she followed the directions of her knight and won the game. She murmured, "Checkmate," and suggested they move all the pieces back to their right positions. Albus agreed, and they clumsily put all the pieces where they belonged. Both were feeling extremely awkward and confused.

Finally, after deciding that she needed a lot of time to think, Minerva said, "I'm tired, Albus. Do you mind if I take a nap?"

"Of course not. You need to rest, and I'm glad your volunteering to do so," Albus said, relieved that he'd get some time to ponder the afternoon's events. "Will you be in your bedroom?"

Minerva nodded.

"All right. Shall I wake you in time for dinner?" he asked.

"I don't expect to be asleep for that long," she said, "but if I am, yes, please."

Dumbledore smiled faintly and said, "Okay. I'll be here if you need anything. Sleep well, my dear."

"Thank you, Albus." She gave a small smile too and vanished behind her bedroom door. She changed into a tartan nightgown and slipped under the covers on her bed. She honestly _was_ tired, but she really wanted to be alone to think. Most of all, she needed to fully regain her composure so she could keep her cool around Albus. If she _did_ decide she could tell Albus how she felt, she had to stay calm, which was next to impossible at the moment. Minerva pulled the blankets more tightly around herself and began some deep thinking.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was still standing in Professor McGonagall's sitting room. He decided to help Minerva with some more of her grading. He had noticed a half-marked pile of essays in one corner of her desk earlier. He figured that relieving Minerva of another task would be good for her, and she'd be happy about it. He thought that if he _would_ reveal his feelings, then he should start by alleviating her stress. Albus moved the chair back to the desk and got straight to work.

* * *

A/N: I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to write next, but hopefully some good ideas come to me. I'll try not to take so long for the next chapter, but I apologize if I do. I also want to thank all of those who have reviewed. D 


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Everything I've used from Harry Potter belongs to the totally awesome J.K. Rowling.

A/N: I offer you my sincerest apologies for the long wait for this chapter.

* * *

Things were getting stranger and stranger as the day progressed. Odd things were happening between Minerva and Albus -- not necessarily bad things. In fact, they could be quite good. The two hoped they were good; they were hoping for love. 

Both desired this love so intensely that they could barely contain their emotions. Being around each other made them both feel so wonderful that one of them just might burst if these emotions were kept secret any longer. This is why Minerva initiated their temporary separation: she needed to regain control over herself.

She had told Albus that she was tired and wanted to take a nap. It was a very believable statement and quite truthful at that. She was ill, and naturally she'd be tired. Albus wanted to rest, so of course he allowed her to go. It was a rather intelligent idea on her part.

Minerva was buried underneath the layers of blankets on her bed. She lay face-down with the pillow over her head, going over all the details, events, and options in her mind. It was not a very complicated matter: She loved Albus Dumbledore and desperately wanted to tell him. However, she didn't know if she _should_. There were risks, and _that_ was the problem. She rolled onto her side and sighed.

"Gryffindor is home to those with daring, nerve, and courage," Minerva sang softly to herself, recalling the Sorting Hat's latest song. She sighed again. At this point, she didn't feel she properly represented her House.

Albus Dumbledore was her employer, her boss, and, most importantly, her best friend. A confession by Minerva could vastly improve their relationship, or it could make it incredibly awkward.

_Or blast it to smithereens,_ she thought with a scowl.

It was impossible for Minerva not to love Dumbledore, though. She lacked much control over her deepest emotions. At first, she thought she was simply infatuated with the man -- he was the most powerful wizard in the world, after all. The emotions didn't go away; they only intensified. She found herself constantly supporting him and longing to hear his voice, to see those sparkling blue eyes. She wanted the best for him. She wanted to spend every possible moment with him. Most of all, she wanted to give this love to him.

She was scared, though. Too many pessimistic "what-ifs" floated through her head, all while her heart screamed that she'd admit it to Albus. Understandably, she was torn. Perhaps she'd explode. All this emotion had to go somewhere.

"I've got to go for it," Minerva told herself aloud. "I have been putting it off for far too long."

The lovesick woman sat up in bed and wondered exactly what she'd say.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat in a straight-backed chair, just a single room away from the woman he secretly loved, Minerva McGonagall. He was in the midst of grading essays for her. It was supposed to be a nice favor, and he was doing it of his own accord. Of course, he had studied the few already-graded papers, to ensure that he markd them how Minerva would. She was an exceptionally particular professor, and she was very scrupulous about her work. Albus wanted to do this as perfectly as he could. He hoped she would like what he'd done. 

While he worked, his mind was filled with thoughts of Minerva. It was a pity that she had fallen ill today, but Albus couldn't help that he liked taking care of her. Because of her illness, he was privileged enough to spend the whole day with her. He hoped that Minerva was enjoying his presence as much as he enjoyed hers. Minerva McGonagall was such good company.

_Merlin, her sleeping form looked so adorable,_ Albus thought, a small smile playing on his face. He hoped for many more opportunities to have her asleep in his arms. He recalled her steady breathing and how soothing it was to him. He had never felt so tranquil in his long, long, life. She was perfect for him, and he knew it. He let out a sigh and wrote a grade at the top of the parchment.

It was Valentine's Day, and he had, so far, spent almost all of the day with Minerva. He had wanted this so badly, and he got it. He should've been content with that, but he wasn't. He longed for something more. Certainly he had expressed a significant amount of care and concern for her, but he ached to show so much more_love_ for Minerva. For many long years, he loved the woman. They became very close friends, and he was always happy to be with her. Now he strongly wished he could he could tell her that he loved her. Hopefully, if she didn't have such feelings in return, it wouldn't severely damage their relationship.

Dumbledore sat pondering in the silence. Minerva had yet to refuse his company. She had called him "darling" much more often, and she even allowed him to spoon-feed her. Albus thoroughly enjoyed those moments. He let out a happy breath, relaxed by the absolute serenity he felt in Minerva's rooms. The quiet was broken by a fit of coughs on the other side of the wall.

_Poor dear,_ Albus thought with sympathy toward the woman from which the coughs emanated. _She probably can't fall asleep._ He had an urge to enter Minerva's bedroom and comfort her.

Of course he didn't. He remained sitting at the desk, marking essays. Fortunately for Albus, he was a constant thinker and was accustomed to working while in deep thought. His musings didn't interfere with his productivity, nor did he find himself putting his thoughts on paper by mistake. He could, however, use some practice with keeping his private thoughts out of his voice.

Not that he'd need it later today -- he had come to a decision that he'd reveal his innermost feelings to Minerva. She deserved to know and had every right to know. These feelings involved her, after all. Albus had been hiding them for much too long. Any more waiting would be detrimental to his heart. Frankly, he was extremely anxious about her reaction. This was a man who had defeated the dark wizard Grindelwald, and yet he was afraid to admit his love to another person! It didn't seem to make sense, but that was exactly what this man was experiencing.

* * *

Dumbledore was still in the midst of grading papers when a door slid open. A woman walked across the threshold and shut the door behind her. 

"Hello, Albus-- what are you doing?" she asked, looking slightly puzzled. She watched as Dumbledore put down the quill and turned to face her.

"Just finishing up some of your grading," he replied. "I hope you don't mind." He noticed that she had changed out of her usual emerald green robes and was now wearing a crimson robe over what appeared to be a tartan nightgown.

"Not at all," she said, shaking her head. "You really didn't have to do this for me, though." She smiled apologetically, as if it were her idea that he do her work.

"Don't worry about, Minerva. It was a favor from me to you," he said. Then he eyed her with mild worry and asked, "Did you get any sleep? It's hardly been an hour."

Not only was he concerned that she get some rest, he had also realized that he was not yet prepared to make his confession! He expected her to be in bed for more than one hour. Still, he continually reassured himself that he'd be okay and stayed calm.

"I know," she said softly. She returned to her red sofa and sat down. "And no, I didn't get much rest. I had trouble sleeping so I came back out here to see you." She beckoned for him to sit next to her.

Complying, Albus swiftly walked over to the couch annd took a seat next to her. Minerva smiled faintly, and he returned it with one of his own. Both looked at ease on the outside, but inside, they were extremely nervous. They were somehow unaware of each other's passionate love for the other. Each of the pair had decided that they must reveal this secret today. Thus, love would no longer be hidden between the two -- that is, if they could only overcome their anxiety.

Minerva looked into Albus's eyes, those clear pools of blue. They were twinkling again, as they did so often. She breathed happily. Something about him made her feel like the world was right, like life made sense, like she could do anything.

_Perhaps even make this confession,_ she thought, summoning her confidence.

"Dear, are you all right?"

Minerva blinked rapidly. Apparently she had been wordlessly staring at him for quite some time. She reminded herself to stay focused.

"Yes. I'm fine," she answered. "I was just... lost in thought."

Dumbledore nodded understandingly.

"I know exactly what you mean. I sometimes find myself entranced by my own thoughts." He wondered what she was thinking but decided it would be an invasion of her privacy to ask, and even more intruding if he read her mind. He remained silent, looking quite pensive.

Minerva studied Albus's facial expression and was sure she knew the question on his mind. It was a little sooner than she had anticipated, but she knew that she could tell him. She inhaled deeply and assured herself that she'd be okay.

_I'd better not put this off any longer,_ she told herself. She took another deep breath and decided to begin.

* * *

A/N: I honestly have no idea how I'm writing the next chapter. Seriously, I'll try not to delay though. I'll definitely work on it during my late night which will be New Year's Eve. D Anyway, thank you for reading, and an extra thanks goes to my reviewers. Hopefully I won't take too long writing this one. Happy New Year if I don't get the next chapter up before then! **- Erin**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter items, characters, and ideas were not my original ideas nor do they belong to me. They are all J.K. Rowling's ideas! She is pretty awesome for that.

**A/N:** I am _extreeeeemely_ sorry for the long delay. My only excuse is one word: homework. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fifth and final chapter of "Albus Fever"! Really, really sorry for the wait. Really. Okay. I'll let you read now.

* * *

"Albus...," Minerva began, faltering a bit. She reminded herself that this had to be done, just like her grading or her lesson plans. This was even more urgent and important than either of those. Turning back was not an option. She had been waiting much too long to tell Albus; she could not retract in fear now.

Dumbledore gazed intently at Minerva. After several moments in which she did not continue, he said, "What is it, Minerva?" His pale blue eyes stared into her emerald green ones, waiting for an answer but searching for one at the same time. 

Quickly and silently reassuring herself, Minerva tried again.

"Albus, I-- " She stopped short once more, closed her eyes, and hoped for strength.

_Why is this so difficult?_ she thought, frustrated. Minerva McGonagall was a strong, determined, and courageous woman, a marvelous model for the Gryffindor House. This seemingly should have been no problem for her, but it was. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

That phenomenon actually made perfect sense. Admitting one's love is not an easy task for anybody, especially when the love is for a dear friend. As the relationship with the person becomes closer, the difficulty of confessing increases. The fear of rejection also increases, only because the other person resides in a special place in the heart. A confession of love is quite a major step, indeed, for anybody. This explains Minerva's feelings, and obviously they didn't make things easier for her.

"Minerva? What is it, Minerva?" Albus asked, looking questioningly at her. Concern was evident in his twinkling blue eyes. When she still did not respond, he drew himself closer to her body and placed a hand on her forehead. "Is it the fever, dear? Perhaps I should help you into bed?"

Minerva immediately shook her head.

_Only the fever for you, Albus,_ she thought. _I have Albus fever._

"It's not that, don't worry. I... I just have to talk to you about something," she said. Now there _really_ was no turning back. To say that she had some different topic to discuss would be a lie, and Minerva McGonagall didn't want to lie to Albus about something this important. She didn't want to lie to Albus at all. She trusted him, and it was only fair that he could trust her.

"Are you sure, Minerva?" Albus persisted. He was a little skeptical that she only had to say something. "You aren't well today, and I know you haven't been resting quite enough. It's all right to be tired, Minerva, and if you are, you should rest." It was obvious that he was worried about her.

"Albus, I'm sure," she said firmly. Albus was being overly concerned, and, although it was very thoughtful of him, frankly it was making her a bit nervous. She didn't want him to be constantly worried about her the entire time she was trying to finally admit her love for him.

"If you're tired, we can talk about whatever it is you need to discuss later," Albus continued.

"No, Albus," Minerva said sternly so he would listen. She cast him a quick glare that told him that she was serious. "I have to talk to you now. This is important."

Dumbledore was slightly taken aback by the return of her severe authoritative voice. He wasn't exactly expecting her to use it, especially since she hadn't all day. Finally he nodded.

"All right, Minerva. I'm all ears," he said, giving her his full attention. Whatever she wanted to say, she must have really wanted to say it.

_Like I want to say I love her,_ he suddenly thought, scattering all his other musings. He was actually slightly startled by his own sudden thought. However, he could not dwell on this right now. He had to listen to Minerva.

"You're listening, right, Albus?" Minerva asked, noticing his distracted expression. She couldn't imagine going through her entire confession with him not evening paying attention!

"Of course, Minerva. Now tell me, what is it you have to say?"

"Well, Albus... there's something I've wanted to tell you for quite a while," Minerva said slowly, gradually gaining more confidence. She actually still wasn't exactly sure how she'd word this, but she hoped once she started it would get easier. "It's very important that I discuss this with you, and I've known that. For some reason, though... I've been putting it off. It's true that I do not approve of procrastination, but... for this, I just couldn't seem to help it." She dropped her gaze down to her hands in her lap, feeling a wild mixture of emotions: shame that she'd waited so long, worry that she couldn't figure out what to say, hope that he would love her in return (once she finally confessed), and sheer terror that he'd reject her. It wasn't the most comfortable set of emotions. "...So I do hope you are paying close attention."

"Undividedly," he said solemnly. He patted her knee and urged gently, "Go on."

Minerva smiled a little and nodded, more to herself than to Dumbledore.

"Anyway... you've been taking care of me all day, and I am extremely glad that you have. Earlier today you said that I would do the same for you, and that's true. I would make the same decision as you did for me, and not just because I am your Deputy Headmistress. There is no one else with whom I'd rather spend my entire day. I care about you very much, Albus, more than I can properly describe. I... hope you can say the same for me."

She looked into his pools of blue that were staring intently back at her. He was certainly listening, which was a good thing, considering she was being more wordy than necessary. In short, she was rambling. Perhaps it was because she was incredibly nervous, and no amount of speech-planning could have helped her there.

_I really hope you can say you love me,_ she thought, just as Albus responded to her words.

"Without question," Albus said. "I care an incredible amount for you, dear. Surely you know that." His eyes glistened magnificently, and for some reason he was wearing a goofy grin. He looked like he was having a personal battle with his mouth, the fight to keep it from opening again.

Minerva put on a great smile, in spite of her nerves. She felt positively blissful whenever Albus spoke to her as he did just now. This new surge of cheerful emotions inspired her to share with Albus exactly how he was making her feel. Perhaps she was trying to give herself more time before the moment of her paramount confession, but, no matter what, she would be spilling her heart and soul out to the man.

"You mean so much to me," she said. "No matter what, you are always there for me. I can talk to you about anything at any time, and you listen. I am extremely thankful for that. You never fail to make me feel appreciated, Albus... perhaps even loved." Why she added the last bit, she didn't know.

Minerva observed Albus closely. He seemed to be reacting strangely to what she just said. The war between his mouth and the rest of him was getting intense. All day, he had been slipping with his words, and now he looked as if he were trying to discipline himself better. After some strange lip contortions, he spoke:

"Of course I lo- _appreciate_ you. I cherish every second spent with you."

"I'm glad. I feel the same way about you, Albus."

"But do you love me, too?" Albus suddenly thought aloud. He quickly clamped his mouth shut, and his eyes widened as his eyebrows shot up into near-disappearance in his white hair.

"Wh-what?" Minerva stammered, clearly taken by surprise.

_Did he just say 'love me, _too she wondered hopefully.

Dumbledore was at a loss for words. He uttered various noises of thought, including "erm" at least six times. The normally intelligent and brave man had no idea what to do. Was he supposed to repeat what he just asked? He settled for looking absolutely silly.

Minerva knew she had heard correctly and realized that Albus had saved her from saying her whole prolix confession. The entire conversation sped up extraordinarily with just one blurted question from Albus.

"Yes."

It was a concise response, but, knowing the gravity of the earlier question, it was quite a meaningful thing to say.

Albus looked back at her with praying blue eyes. He thought he had made a foolish blunder, but it seemed that it was not a mistake at all.

_'Yes,' she had said. That must have been the answer to his sudden question. It was the response to his spoken thoughts. It had to be. What else could 'yes' possibly mean?_

"Yes, I love you," Minerva verified for him. Tears shone in her eyes. She had done it. She admitted her love, after many long years of masking her true emotions. It wasn't exactly how she planned it, but perhaps this wasn't something one could or should plan. She continued, with much effort, considering she was choked up a bit:

"I hope by 'too' you mean that you also love me."

Albus nodded dumbly. He couldn't speak. Thus, he grasped her hands and pulled her close. Embracing her tenderly, he finally managed to say, "I love you with all that I am, Minerva. Words cannot describe."

The next thing Minerva knew was that his lips were on hers. Nothing could have told Minerva how exhilarated she would feel once she and Albus finally kissed. She was euphoric; the feeling was so amazing. She responded by deepening the kiss, never wanting to part. Albus Dumbledore was the most incredible man living or not, the only man she could ever love. She had finally been able to give her love to him, and he returned with love for her. A better feeling was not possible to have.

"Albus, I love you," Minerva exclaimed breathlessly when they finally came back for air.

"And I, you," Albus replied. He was thrilled that Minerva loved him, too. It was crazy; just knowing that Minerva loved him, he knew life would only get better for the both of them. He was so elated that he could share his love with Minerva. This was the best feeling in the world.

"I hope I don't get you sick," Minerva whispered with a hint of apology in her tone.

"No matter," Albus said, bringing his lips to hers again. They did not part for quite some time, and when they finally did, both were gasping for breath. "Happy Valentine's Day, Minerva."

Minerva smiled.

"Happy Valentine's Day to you, too, Albus."

And this time, she kissed him.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, that's it! The end! I really hope you enjoyed reading this. Thank you all for reading, and extra thanks to those who reviewed!  
- Erin 


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